


Hold Me Close, My Dear, and Don't Let Go

by Mother_Hen



Category: The Aurora Cycle - Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Heart-to-Heart, Hugging, The Pacer Test, aurora burning spoilers, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_Hen/pseuds/Mother_Hen
Summary: Working on Magellan is good in short bursts since it distracts me from everything else that’s going on. Besides, I need to get this fixed for Aurora when she comes back. If she comes back, my traitorous brain supplies. She’ll probably need it, and I know she’s become attached to it. Working on it does get old pretty fast, though. Eventually, the restlessness starts to set back in, spurred along by Magellan’s incessant chatter. Really, there’s not much to do except pace, wring my hands, and hope for the best.I’m thinking about calling it a day when the door to my room whooshes open. “Hey, you,” Scarlett says.
Relationships: Scarlett Jones/Finian de Karran de Seel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Hold Me Close, My Dear, and Don't Let Go

I don’t like to throw this word around all willy-nilly, but Auri’s uni-glass is being a real bitch. Now, don’t get me wrong. If I can’t fix it, no one can, but luckily for Auri, I can. These things aren’t exactly cheap, you know. The real problem is that Magellan is a smarmy know-it-all. Sure, I can put it on silent mode, but that never lasts long. I will say this: I’m learning things about Terran culture that I never even wanted to know.

“Wait, so Terran schools have classes where they force you to chuck bouncy balls at each other? And the dirtchildren are supposed to dodge the balls until they’re picked off one by one and there’s only one left? And they do this for fun? That sounds unnecessarily violent,” I say.

“I KNOW RIGHT? HONESTLY, THAT SOUNDS LIKE A SPECIES THAT WOULD BENEFIT FROM SOME KIND OF BENEVOLENT MACHINE OVERLORD. OH, AND JUST WAIT UNTIL I TELL YOU ABOUT THE PACER TEST!”

“What in the Maker is a PACER Test?”

“I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED! THE FITNESSGRAM™ PACER TEST IS A MULTISTAGE AEROBIC CAPACITY TEST THAT PROGRESSIVELY GETS MORE DIFFICULT AS IT CONTINUES. THE 20 METER PACER TEST WILL BEGIN IN 30 SECONDS. LINE UP AT THE START.”

“Wait, what?” This psychopathic uni-glass doesn’t actually expect me to engage in… aerobic activity, does it? Not to say that I’m not in prime condition, but running is a little difficult with the exosuit.

“THE RUNNING SPEED STARTS SLOWLY, BUT GETS FASTER EACH MINUTE AFTER YOU HEAR THIS SIGNAL--” Magellan makes a loud noise that spikes up my heart rate a few notches “--A SINGLE LAP SHOULD BE COMPLETED EACH TIME YOU HEAR THIS--”

“Silent mode!” I say hastily. No Betraskans on this ship will be subjected to the horrors of the PACER Test today. Every time I think Terrans couldn’t get any weirder, they find a way.

“AW,” Magellan says. “I’M STILL 3 TIMES SMARTER THAN YOU.” It always has to have the last word, doesn’t it?

Finally, I can work in silence.

I would turn the low-grav on, but it’s a little difficult to work when there are tools and tiny pieces floating around everywhere. So for the moment, I’m working at a desk that folded out of one of the walls of my room. I’m telling you, the Zero has everything we could possibly need. Personalized rooms for everyone, all of our favorite non-perishables in the galley, great automatic steering, and a perfect disguise. It’s got everything. Except for a surefire plan, that is.

Working on Magellan is good in short bursts since it distracts me from everything else that’s going on. Besides, I need to get this fixed for Aurora when she comes back. _If she comes back_ , my traitorous brain supplies. She’ll probably need it, and I know she’s become attached to it. Working on it does get old pretty fast, though. Eventually, the restlessness starts to set back in, spurred along by Magellan’s incessant chatter. Really, there’s not much to do except pace, wring my hands, and hope for the best.

I’m thinking about calling it a day when the door to my room whooshes open. “Hey, you,” Scarlett says. A stupid, goofy grin has developed a nasty habit of creeping onto my face whenever she walks into a room. I’d like to think that I’m getting better at controlling it, but let’s be honest with ourselves. I’m not.

“Why, hello, fair lady. What brings you to my humble abode?” I ask, my spine cracking as I stretch and straighten.

“I come bearing sustenance.” She sets a mug of baris on the desk with a soft clunk, and the scent of home takes some of the tension out of me. In her other hand is a mug of steaming brown… something. There are little white things floating on top. “Hot chocolate,” she explains.

I thank her and gratefully take a sip of Baris. Cradling her mug in both hands, she sits on the edge of the desk. “How are repairs going?” she asks.

“Slowly but surely. I can only tolerate Magellan’s bratty little voice for so long. Just like you can only tolerate mine for so long,” I joke. I’m not above taking a crack at myself to lighten the mood. Hey, don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.

“You’re lucky I tolerate you, Betraskan!” She smiles and gently shoves my shoulder as she says it, so I know she’s only joking.

“Don’t I know it. Many thanks for blessing me with your humble presence.” Scar could step on me, and I’d probably thank her.

We sit in companionable silence for a while, nursing our drinks. I’m assuming that Zila’s keeping watch over Kal and Auri. Everyone waited around for about an hour before it became clear that they weren’t going to wake up any time soon. The ship is so empty now, the humming of the engines too loud. Seven whittled down to six, then pared off to five. And then there were three.

It hits me at the strangest moments. I’ll just be going about my day, minding my own business when suddenly I glance at Cat’s stuffed dragon and want to cry. Or I’ll be working on something and become very aware of how silent it is, my tools making the only sounds. Or I’ll look into Scarlett’s gorgeous blue eyes and ache for our lost leader. Our lost friend. How much more of my family will I have to lose?

If you think about it, I haven’t really known any of them for long. After being on my own for so long, I didn’t really know how to handle them at first. But when you spend every minute of every day battling for your life and the fate of the universe with a group of people, you form an unbreakable bond. I _know_ these people. I care about them. And they care about me, which is astounding in its own right.

Sometimes I think I’m a little in love with all of them.

A faint tapping sound shakes me out of my reverie. Scar’s absentmindedly tapping a fingernail against her mug. She’s staring at its contents, lost in thought. For a moment she looks so lost that it hurts me to look at her. “Scar?” She hums noncommittally, her eyes unfocused. “How are you holding up?” I ask, as gentle as I can manage. Her gaze snaps back to me as she raises her eyebrows.

“Me? I’m fine,” she says nonchalantly. I level a stare at her, taking a sip of baris for good measure. She’s not fooling anyone. I know her well enough by now to know when she’s putting on a brave face. Finally, she sighs. “Yeah, I’m not really fine.”

Suddenly her eyes look very glassy, and she looks away. I reach out and take her hand, feeling her squeeze mine in return. “I miss him, too,” I say.

She takes a few deep breaths, blinking rapidly. Tears perch right on her eyelashes, but they don’t fall. “It’s funny being a twin,” she says. “Sometimes I feel like I know what Tyler will say before he says it. Know what he’ll do before he does it. Sometimes I swear I can tell what he’s thinking just by looking at him - and not in an ‘I’m a Face and I read people like they’re books’ kind of way. We were inseparable as kids. Our dad told us that we invented our own language before we could even talk. He’s not just my brother or my twin - he’s a part of me. He’s the only family I have left. When we left him behind, it was like losing a limb.” She exhales shakily. “I have no idea what to do now. If Aurora doesn’t make it out of the Echo or doesn’t learn how to control her powers, we’re screwed. Like, totally, completely screwed. I want Tyler to be here so badly. I want him to tell me what to do. I can’t be the leader that he is.”

I look at her in shock. Never in my life have I seen her like this. It pains me to see her without her usual confidence. “You are a leader, Scar,” I say, deliberately. “You’ve gotten us out of so many tight spots.”

She chuckles, short and bitter. “Only because I have all of you to pick up my slack. It hasn’t always gone my way.”

I shake my head. “Well, you certainly got your way when you freed those Syldrathi Waywalkers on the Andarael. Everybody else was ready to just walk away, but you were the one who put her foot down and did the right thing. You freed hundreds of innocent people and got us an ally to boot. You were the one who refused to leave Tyler behind, despite the danger and the time constraint. You were the one who pulled us together when we got back from the Andarael. You have proved yourself over and over again, and you have shown everyone that you are invaluable to the team. You are a leader.”

Finally, she starts to look like she believes me. She smiles weakly. “I guess I am kind of great.”

“You’re amazing.” She looks me in the eye to see if I’m joking, but I’m being dead serious. Now listen, I’m usually not the type to get all sappy and spill my guts, but I can’t bear the thought of Scar thinking she’s an incompetent leader. “You’re confident and kind-hearted, and you care about all of us like we’re your family. You’re headstrong and stubborn and, frankly, hilarious. I couldn’t think of a better person to be in charge of this squad right now.”

She sniffles and wipes the moisture from her eyes. “That’s so sweet of you to say. You know, underneath all that snark, you can actually be kind of charming,” she says.

I lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell the others. I have a reputation to keep up.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. de Seel. Your secret is safe with me.” She winks, and my stomach flips. Maybe I should get Zila to check that out.

“Do you ever miss your family?” she asks.

I take a slow sip of baris. With anyone else, this would be a bit of a sore subject. Somehow, I don’t mind talking about it with her. Besides, she just spilled her guts to me, so I take a deep breath and say, “That is a loaded question. For one thing, I’ve hardly seen my family since I was a child. Maker, I’ve hardly seen my planet since I was a child. When you’ve lived on a space station for over a decade, it becomes your way of life.”

“But?” she prods. But, indeed. Sometimes, I could almost forget where I came from. But the homesickness never really went away.

“I’m a Betraskan. Down to my blood, and bones, and DNA. That’s something you can never leave behind. We’re a family-oriented species. You would know since you’re a Face. Your clan is your home, your life.” I meet her eyes. “You seal each other’s dens.” She nods somberly.

I continue, “You’re constantly surrounded by other people talking to you, and touching you, and _caring_ about you. As an individual, and as part of a clan. And to be torn from that at such a young age… it hurt. It hurt while I was on the space station with my grandparents, and it only got worse when I joined the Aurora Legion. Nobody wanted to be around me - not even the other Betraskans. I thought everybody avoided me because of the exosuit, but now I know that it was my fault all along. I pushed them away before they could push me away. Hurt them before they could hurt me.”

“And then you met Squad 312,” she says. And then I met Squad 312.

“Oh, believe me, I tried to push you all away, too. To no avail, and now I’m stuck with a bunch of bumbling idiots on a mission to save the galaxy!” That gets a chuckle out of her.

“A bunch of bumbling idiots and me,” she says.

“Of course, of course,” I say with a smirk.

I look down at our joined hands, mine a stark white, hers a light tan. Somehow they fit so well together. But I have been holding her hand for a while, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. So, with great reluctance, I pull away and clasp my hands together in my lap.

A few seconds go by before she stands up. A pang of disappointment goes through me at the thought of her leaving. I kind of thought we were having a moment.

She opens her mouth, hesitates, and closes it. Reconsiders. Then says, “I’m going to hug you now.” Oh. “I think we both need it.” Like an idiot, I just sit there staring at her. I finally stand up when she raises her eyebrows, and then I’m in her arms.

You’d think that hugging me would be a little awkward with the exosuit, but somehow it’s not a problem for Scar. She’s just a great hugger. Seriously, I think this might be the best hug I’ve ever gotten. My arms are wrapped around her waist, and, since we’re about the same height, I can rest my chin on her shoulder. I can feel the weight of her arms against the shell of my exosuit, and one of her hands comes up to drag through the hair at the base of my skull. I bury my face into her very, very comfortable shoulder and try not to sigh contentedly.

Great Maker, when was the last time I was held like this? I hadn’t realized how much I needed it.

Eventually, Scar pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. Reluctantly, or so I tell myself, she says, “I should get back to the control room. Somebody needs to keep watch on the radars in case someone’s on our tail.”

“You’re sure you can handle it?” I say skeptically. Leadership abilities or not, Scar isn’t exactly known for her innate knowledge of ships.

She waves me off. “I’ll be fine. How hard can it be?” Because I am a wise man, I say nothing. She picks up her mug and turns to go, but hesitates. I raise my brows quizzically when she turns back to me. In response, she cups my cheek and says, “Thank you, Fin.” Something in my brain short-circuits, and she’s gone before I can say anything else. For a while I just stare at the door, a million thoughts racing through my head.

Then Magellan pipes up and asks, “HEY, DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE 13.8% MORE LIKELY TO DIE ON YOUR BIRTHDAY?”

I knock back the dregs of my baris and sigh. Back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I fully intend to write a fic where these two made out? Yes. Did I end up writing about hand-holding, heart-to-hearts, and hugging instead? Also yes. Whoops.
> 
> Honestly, I wasn't too big on this ship, but Aurora Burning convinced me. They're just so supportive of each other. (And let's be real, they would be hot together.) 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


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